


Double Date - Double Fun !

by LakeWitch



Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - College/University, Based on a Tumblr Post, Dinner, Double Dating, Eventual Fluff, Fake/Pretend Relationship, First Kiss, Holding Hands, Light Angst, M/M, Post-Book 2: Wayward Son, Post-Book 3 as well, Swearing, The divergence is they never got romantically involved, but by accident, probably
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-29
Updated: 2020-08-29
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:34:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26145709
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LakeWitch/pseuds/LakeWitch
Summary: Based onthistumblr post by bewaretheides315:"I can’t actually remember ever reading something like this, but I feel positive that it definitely exists somewhere in fandom, so somebody tell me where to find it:One guy asks two girls to go on a double date with him and his friend. The girls are like “sure, sounds fun!” and the guys are like “score!” until they show up for the date and the girls hold hands, and sit next to each other, and one of them gives the other one a little cutesy couple neck kiss and the other asks the guys how long they’ve been together. And suddenly the guys aren’t really sure how to explain that they really thought they were going on a different kind of double date so they just kind of go along with it and, well, you know how this ends."University AU in which everything inCarry OnandWayward Sonhappened the same, except for Simon and Baz's entire romantic relationship.
Relationships: Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch/Simon Snow
Comments: 33
Kudos: 215





	Double Date - Double Fun !

**SIMON**

"Guys," I say, smacking my palm on the cafeteria table, and it rattles our lunch plates. I can feel Baz and Penny's dubious eyes on me. "There's Lina, from my Anthropology class."

Lina has just paid for her meal, and is carrying her tray over to one of the tables at the far end of the hall. She's quite pretty, and super nice, with long black braids, down to her waist, and huge, friendly dark brown eyes—the sort you could get lost in. We had a group project on the Yanomami people of the Amazon a few weeks ago, and she was always joking with me, rolling her eyes with a smile, saying, "Simon, you idiot." She's cute, really. 

Penny twists around in her seat to scrutinise her, then turns back to shoot me look. "All right, Simon. And this Lina person is …?" 

I gesture towards her. "She's cute, right? I might even ask her out sometime." It's been ages since I've even been on a date. Years. Okay, the last and only person was Agatha, and did we ever proper date? Not really, not dinner and a movie type stuff. Not adult stuff. 

And I'm ready to date like a proper adult. The worst that happens to me these days is low scores on tests. So, I'm doing pretty well, I'd have to say. It's time to ... well, put myself out there, I think.

I can practically feel Baz inhale and exhale beside me. He's probably rolling his eyes, but I don't see what's so wrong with it. We're in uni, we're meant to meet new people, have new experiences. Just because Baz and Penny like to stick to our group all the time, doesn't mean I have to. 

"Okay," says Penny, exchanging a glance with Baz, which I'm not sure is altogether supportive. "Ask her, then." 

Right, yeah, I could do that. Though, admittedly, it sets my nerves off a bit. 

I mean … what's it hurt though? She can say "no" and that'd be fine. 

"Okay I … yeah, maybe I will." 

"Go for it," Penny urges. 

"Oh. You mean right now?" I glance across the hall at Lina. I can't really make out her face, just bits of her hair past all the other students. "Okay," I say with more confidence than I feel, and rise to my feet before I can talk myself out of it.

I walk between all the tables, past all the other students eating and chatting and making noise, over to her.

**PENNY**

Baz is practically seething, and could he be more obvious?

"What," he bites out, when he's managed to look away from Simon's back for one second, and catches me watching him. 

"Nothing." I shoot him an innocent smile, and he scowls. His attention is back on Simon in an instant. 

I've decided to sit back and watch this all play out. I have a feeling it'll either turn out really good, or really bad. 

My bet's on really good.

**SIMON**

Lina's sat with a friend, I assume, and doesn't look up when I approach. Another good-looking girl—South Asian, with short-cropped black hair, and squinty, smiling eyes. They're leaning towards each other and laughing, while their food sits untouched in front of them.

"Hey Lina," I say, already feeling a bit breathless. 

"Simon! Hi," she says, looking up at me with a tinge of surprise. She turns to the girl beside her. "Um, this is Taara." 

"Ah, hello," I say. 

Taara nods at me, and smiles slightly. 

I turn back to Lina. "So, Lina, ah … I was wondering if you might like to go on a date sometime?"

Lina tenses up, looking to Taara immediately with wide-eyes, and Taara looks back at her with a raised eyebrow. 

"Or, what I meant was, as a double date," I blurt out, shifting my attention from Lina to Taara and back. I know Lina a little, but not _that_ well, so I'm guessing she'd be more comfortable with a friend along. "If you want to." 

Lina's posture seems to relax, which probably means I made the right call. "A double date?" 

"Yeah, um, you two, with me and Baz," I say, and I don't know why I say it. He was the first bloke that came to mind, I suppose. I gesture behind myself, and point to my table where Penny and Baz are sitting. Lina and Taara lift up a bit to get a good look at him. And I catch Baz's eye, just for a moment—he's frowning at me, rather darkly. Looks a bit murderous, to be honest. But that's normal for us though, isn't it? I turn back to gage Taara's reaction, and she appears to be looking at Baz with some interest. 

I look at Lina, and … notice the same. A pit drops in my stomach, because I'm betting Lina would prefer Baz too. But that's typical, though, isn't it? Baz is … Baz is Baz. Anywhere he goes, he gains admirers. (I am trying very hard not to think of that arsehole Lamb right now.) Anyway. I'll just have to accept it—Lina preferring Baz—if it comes down to that. 

"So what do you think?" I ask. 

"Sure," Lina says, smiling now. "Sounds fun. What do you want to do?" 

"Dinner," I say, shrugging. Food is always a good place to start, I figure. "How's that sound?"

"All right, as long as there are vegetarian options for Taara." 

I nod. "Yeah, of course. I'll find something." I run a hand through my hair and tug. "Friday? At seven?" 

Lina smiles crooked. "Sure. Text me the details." 

"Of course. Ah, see you both then." I'm relieved. I turn and walk back to Baz and Penny, and I can't keep the smile off my face.

**BAZ**

Snow comes back with a huge smile, and I have to suppress a grimace. It's not that I don't want to see him _happy_ , per se—it's that I don't prefer his heterosexual happiness flaunted in front of me.

He sinks into his seat, and says, "She said yes." 

Well, obviously. As if we couldn't garner that by the dopey grin plastered on his face. 

Snow's smile fades a fraction, and he turns to me. "Baz …" 

"What." 

Snow's eyebrows are getting very close together. He's going to ask me something I won't like. "I sort of, um …" 

"Spit it out, Snow," I say, and it comes out sounding wearier than I'd intended. 

"I told Lina and her friend we'd like to go on a double date." 

What? The fuck? "I beg your pardon?" 

"You and me," he says, wincing. "Lina and her friend Taara." Snow licks at his bottom lip. "They're both very nice!" he rushes to add. "Please, it's only one night, and it's just to make Lina feel more comfortable, you know, having a friend there. And it'll be fun! Casual-like!" 

He has got to be kidding me. "You have got to be kidding me." I can think of nothing worse … being on an actual date with Simon Snow, but … for Crowley's sake … Snow would be on a date with someone else, right next to me. Maybe even holding hands … flirting ... or, Merlin-forbid, _snogging_ — 

Snow's eyes grow wider. "Please? I know you don't really date, but …" 

I frown. 

"I don't know if you're, like, aro/ace or whatever. Or maybe you just like to keep that part of your life priv—" 

"Snow," I nearly growl, and his mouth snaps closed. I stare at him, and those stupid, blue eyes are so bright and innocent and well-seeming that I … I … "Fine," I relent. 

I'm so weak. 

I ... want him to be happy. 

Snow is searching my eyes, with a smile growing on his stupid mouth. "Yeah?" he asks, breathily. And I can't look away, even if I tried. 

"Yes." 

Snow bites at his bottom lip—white teeth on pink lip—and for a moment he sways forward, and I think he might hug me. But he steadies, and he doesn't. "Thank you." 

"You're paying." 

It's only then that I remember Bunce is sat across from us. I turn to her, and find her staring at us with a satisfied smile on her lips. I narrow my eyes at her, and her smile widens. Whatever.

**SIMON**

Baz and I are walking down the sidewalk, and I think he's already angry with me. He's brushed off all my attempts at conversation, and he's staring straight ahead, down the dark street, with a small frown and hands stuffed in his trouser pockets.

He looks nice, though. He's made a real effort tonight, despite his … reluctance, his begrudged attitude. Baz chose a well-tailored black suit over a white shirt—with the top two buttons undone. It's simple, yeah, especially compared to some of the suits he's worn before—like that pretty floral one in Las Vegas. But he still manages to look like he's a watch model in a catalogue today, and he isn't even wearing a watch. 

We arrive at the restaurant—a trendy, upscale Indian place with low light, burgundy table cloths, and candles on every table. Plenty of vegetarian options, too. 

Baz holds the door open for me, and a bell chimes from above. I shuffle past him, and he's looking straight over my head as I walk. 

I'm looking at him though. "Thank you."

No response, it's like he didn't hear me. 

I hope he isn't going to make tonight awkward by being silent the entire time. And I hope Taara likes him (but, who wouldn't?) 

The women are already there, sat on the same side of a four-person table, near the back of the restaurant. I lead Baz over there, past all the other diners, smelling something very good along the way. I'm quite excited to eat, I wonder what I'll order? Maybe a biryani. Not sure.

"Hey," I say, slipping into the seat across from Lina. 

"Simon," she says, looking away from Taara to smile at me. "And this must be … Baz?" 

He sinks into the seat beside me, and nods, already taking the cloth napkin from the table, and setting it on his lap. 

"Nice to meet you," Lina says. She's very friendly. I almost want to kick Baz under the table, to persuade him to at least _smile_. 

"And you," Baz says, rather neutrally. His eyes shift to Taara, across from him.

"This is Taara," Lina supplies, happily. 

The two of them make eye contact and nod. 

Great. This won't be awkward at all. Well … at least Lina and I have plenty to talk about.

**BAZ**

Simon and Lina are happily babbling on about their classes and what they want to do after university, and I'm pretending I'm not here.

The food is decent. I ordered a pleasant-enough tandoori chicken. 

Then I notice something peculiar, Taara is touching Lina's hand—rubbing her fingertips over the back of her hand, in a soothing-type manner. She leans in, whispering something under her breath near Lina's ear. 

Lina smiles, and flips her hand over, so that they are palm-to-palm. They lace their fingers together. 

Snow trails off from whatever he was nattering about. He's noticed, too. 

Lina and Taara turn to look at each other, and share an affectionate smile. 

They're … 

Huh. 

Lina turns back to face Simon and I, and asks, "So how long have you two been together?" 

I sense Snow stiffen beside me. 

I open my mouth to tell them the truth, but Snow is faster. 

"Not long," Snow lies. "A few … months." 

I freeze, and don't dare look at him. What is he playing at? 

"Ah, lovely. Taara and I have been together for two years." They look at each other again, smiling. "We met at a Morrissey show. Taara was in front of me in the merch line, and we bought the same t-shirt." The two of them are gazing into each other's eyes like we're trapped in a romantic comedy—they are romantic, Snow and I are the comedy. 

"You look so cute in that t-shirt," Taara murmurs, staring at Lina's mouth and not ashamed of it. 

"You do," Lina counters. 

They lean in, and kiss. 

I look down at my nearly empty plate, and try not to feel bitter about my lot in life. 

Lina breaks away and leans back in her seat, with a self-satisfied expression. "How did you guys meet?" 

"At school," Snow supplies. His tone is a bit manic. "Private boarding school. We were roommates the entire time." 

"And they were roommates," Lina says, with amusement in her voice. She clutches at her chest, as if being roommates was something special. 

"Oh my God, they were roommates," Taara echoes dryly, with a smirk. 

The two women exchange a look and snort. 

I take another bite of chicken and ignore them. 

"Er, yes," says Snow, with uncertainty. 

"How'd it happen?" Lina asks, leaning in slightly to show interest. 

Yes, Snow, how'd it happen? 

"Ah, well Baz is …" Snow clears his throat. 

I turn to him; I want to see his face when he says whatever he's going to say. Snow looks back at me, and I can't get a read on him. He's just staring at me. 

"Baz is the best-looking person I've ever met, and …" Snow worries his bottom lip. "He's also the smartest. Cleverest. Most … most interesting … So … um, I finally realised that it was him—" 

I have to look away, I don't like … I don't want to watch him lie about something … something that I wish was true. 

"That he's … the one ..." Snow trails off. 

"That's really sweet," Lina says. 

I feel Snow watching me, but I'm reaching for my water and pretending he isn't staring.

Lina changes the subject to some film they watched in Anthropology, which shifts into a conversation about documentaries, then favourite documentaries, then David Attenborough and "Planet Earth". 

Simon Snow reaches for my hand, and I nearly jump out of my skin.

**SIMON**

Baz's hand is cold.

It's nice, though. Pale ... long, bony fingers … 

Oh God, what am I doing? 

When I found out Lina and Taara were together, I just panicked. Now I've dug myself in a hole of my own making, and I hope Baz can handle playing along for a little while longer. He's probably angry with me, he _looks_ angry. All pinched mouth and eyes staring a little too hard at his own plate. 

I know I'll owe him for this. 

He seems to be tolerating my hand on his hand though, which is something at least. 

And admittedly … admittedly it gives me a thrill to be able to do this, with Baz … the handsomest, cleverest person I've ever known (tied with Penny for clever, of course. Not that I'm saying Penny isn't handsome, exactly. She is very cute, just … oh, never mind). 

I wasn't lying before with what I said, about Baz. I just might've … not exactly acknowledged it, to myself. Not in words. But it's true … anyone would be lucky to be with Baz. 

_I_ would be lucky. 

Even though I know— _I know_ —that it's impossible. 

Baz barely tolerates me as it is, ever since our "truce", and sometimes he still looks at me like he wants to kill me. I think the only reason we're still roommates is out of habit, and because there aren't any co-ed dorms at university. If there were, I'd probably be rooming with Penny. 

And I've never been able to figure out what Baz wants—he's so private about himself in general, let alone anything romantic. I've never known him to show any interest in anyone (save Agatha, maybe). Though he did say that the hand-holding with her was only meant to piss me off.

Maybe he _is_ aromantic/asexual. And that's cool. That's fine. 

I realise I'm stroking his hand, and Lina is saying something to me.

**BAZ**

I hate this.

Snow is simply trying to save face … rather than admit he'd made a mistake. He's using me … using me in order to avoid a mildly uncomfortable conversation. ("Oh, sorry, I thought _we_ were on a date." "Ha ha really? Sorry, no, I'm with Taara." "Yeah my mistake, cool. Let's enjoy our food and never do this again!" Or something to that effect.) 

His fingers feel nice, though. Warm. 

I'm having difficulty focussing on anything else. I know that a conversation is taking place at the table, but all I can think about is Simon's index finger travelling a slow path over my knuckles. 

I have goosebumps. I have actual sodding goosebumps. And I like it. I feel a bit floaty. 

A dangerous thought strikes me: I might never have an opportunity like this again. 

I glance at Snow, and his eyes dart over to me and away. His cheeks are blotchy with pink.

I could kiss him, right now. I could just lean over, press my lips to his lips, and he wouldn't even push me away because he's so intent on keeping up his ruse. If anything, I would be helping him tell a more convincing lie. 

I let myself watch his face, openly. The edge of his mouth twitches, he's uncomfortable. 

No, I won't kiss him. 

Because I'd rather my first and only kiss be real, if I can help it. How stupidly romantic of me.

So, I do something else instead.

**SIMON**

Baz flips his hand over, palm up, just like Taara and Lina had, and my immediate reaction had been to shirk away from the movement, thinking he's pulling his hand out from mine. But he hadn't pulled away, and my palm is hovering in the air, ready to retreat if need be. And, admittedly … I don't know what to do. Our palms are just millimetres apart.

I suck in a breath, and I can feel my heart beat in my throat. 

Again: what am I doing? 

Baz's fingers curl, to gently rest upon the backs of mine, and guide my hand down to rest flat on his. 

So I try to relax against his cool palm. And Baz shifts his fingers over, to interlace them with mine. He squeezes. 

He's playing along, I'm thinking. 

And I don't know what that means. 

"I don't even know what the appeal of EDM is," Lina says, scrunching up her nose and looking at me. 

I nod. 

"So you agree, Simon?" 

I focus in on her. "Oh, ah, what's that?" 

"Electronic Dance Music?" 

She and Taara begin launching into a description, each explaining back-and-forth to Baz and I how club music has evolved over the years. I'm nodding along, and absorbing none of it. 

Baz's grip eases up, as it dawns on me that I was holding his hand back, just as firmly. His fingers are warming, absorbing my heat, becoming room temperature now. 

He's using his fingertips to explore the dips between each of my fingers. It feels a bit weird, but I don't exactly mind. 

He relaxes his hand altogether, and now it's my turn. To touch him. 

Baz has callouses, from playing the violin. I map those thicker bits of skin, and he lets me.

This is … this is … 

_Nice_.

**BAZ**

A waiter appears out of nowhere with desserts to share. I wasn't aware we'd ordered anything.

Snow pulls his hand out of mine as if he's been burned—as if we've done something terribly wrong—and shoves it away, under the table. He sits up straighter, and clears his throat. 

So it's fine if the women think we're together, but as soon as the waiter sees us, a stranger—then it's embarrassing? _Then_ it's shameful? 

And of course it's my hand that's left there on the table, that I have to slowly take back and fold on my lap, as if nothing had happened. 

We share desserts with tiny spoons, of which I barely taste, as they're on about North European house music by this time. And Simon doesn't reach for my hand again. Instead he's "Mmhmm"-ing and nodding, and asking appropriate questions that I'm sure he doesn't care to have answered. 

My hand feels cold again.

The waiter comes back with a bill, which Simon and Taara split. Then we're up and shuffling out of the warm restaurant in single file, through the door and into the cool, night air. 

Lina is the first out the door, and she stops right outside the entrance to grin at us. Taara and Snow linger there with her, so I join in. Can't really start walking off, no matter how much I'd like to.

"The food was so good! I'll definitely come back here. Right, Taara?" Lina asks.

"Yep. Pretty good."

"So I made a decent choice, huh?" Snow chimes in with an awkward smile. I see him glancing at me out of the corner of my eye.

I just want to leave. And I wish to Merlin Simon Snow wasn't going the same place I was. 

"Mmhmm. It's so nice to have another same-sex couple to hang out with," Lina says, smiling at us. "We should do this again sometime!" 

"We should!" Snow says, with forced enthusiasm. 

I attempt to smile politely. 

We wave goodbye and turn our separate directions. 

I don't want to have to talk to Snow about this. About the hand-holding, about all the things he lied about tonight. I don't want to hear a floundered apology, a plea to forget it, nor an attempt to laugh it off. I just want to go to sleep. 

I walk fast, down the dark sidewalk, and Snow hurries to keep up pace beside me.

**SIMON**

"So, um," I start, searching for the right thing to say. "That was a bit unexpected, right?"

Baz grunts.

"Well, thanks," I try again, wincing a little. "For being … a sport about the whole thing." 

Baz whirls on me. "A _sport_?" His expression is rather murderous. 

Oh no. He is mad. 

I open my mouth, but I don't know what to say. 

Baz's eyes intensify their glare, then he looks straight forward again with a growl, picking up the pace. 

I guess just the very suggestion of him and I being more than friends … makes Baz very, very angry. 

And that … well, stings. 

But I get it.

**BAZ**

Thankfully Snow drops it, and the rest of the walk back to our dorm is silent, save for a few rowdy drunken students we encounter along the way. But I barely register anything external, my thoughts are elsewhere.

The climb up to our room feels different. Probably on account of the complete silence in the building. Everyone's out, or perhaps studying. And it's just me, and Simon Snow, now. Returning early on a Friday night to our dorm room. From our pretend date, with each other. 

I press open our door, and I don't wait to see if Snow's caught it. The doors clicks shut, and opens again an instance later. So he hadn't caught it in time. Whatever. I just go straight to my closet, and pull off my blazer because this suit is stifling, and I just want to feel comfortable again and have this entire night behind me. 

I hear Snow huffing and puffing—sighing and working himself into a strop.

Ignoring him, I take out a hanger, and drape my blazer overtop, and hang it back up. 

Snow slumps down onto his bed, I hear the mattress springs dip. 

"Why are you so …" Snow cuts himself off. 

I whirl around to face him, angrier than I have any right to be, and I know it. It's just—

"So upset?" Snow finishes, grimacing. "Is it really so bad?" 

" _Yes_." 

"Am I so … so …" 

I stop. And can't possibly fathom how to respond to what Snow is trying to imply.

He licks at his bottom lip, and tries again. "Is it so repugnant an idea?" 

I blink at him. "Big word, for you." 

We stare at each other. 

And Snow looks helpless, all wide-eyed and brow-furrowed and looking at me like I hold the answers to whatever he's asking. It makes me want to grab him. Shake him. Punch him. Kiss him.

Because he isn't making any sense. 

"I'm sorry," Snow finally says. He looks down at the floor and swipes a palm over his face. "I had no idea they were together." 

"I know." 

"I'm sorry you had an awful time." 

I pinch my mouth shut. 

Snow looks positively miserable. Without warning, he stands up, and marches off to the bathroom to get ready for bed. 

And I bury my face in my hands, and groan.

**SIMON**

My shower didn't help any. Maybe sleep will.

Baz is sat at his desk, bent over a textbook and a stack of loose papers. I ignore him and head for my bed, shutting the overhead light as I go. The only light remaining comes from the lamp on Baz's desk. 

It feels strange in here. Like there's something in the air, something that wasn't there yesterday. I don't like it. I don't like any of this. I wish I'd never asked Lina out in the first place.

I roll over and face the wall, hugging my blanket close. 

"Snow." 

"What," I mumble. 

Baz sighs heavily. "Why are you so bloody miserable right now? Did you like her _that_ much?" 

Did I like her that much? No. 

Why am I so miserable? I don't know. I guess it's knowing that Baz finds the very idea of dating me horrifying. 

I squeeze my eyes shut tight. 

Baz sighs again, and I hear him click off the lamp, and head for the bathroom.

It's a long while before I fall asleep.

**PENNY**

On Saturdays, Baz, Simon, and I always meet at the Greek place near my dorm for lunch, and I'm waiting outside with my back against the brick wall. They're late.

Finally I spot a thatch of bronze curls down the sidewalk—it's Simon shuffling towards me with his head down, with hands stuffed in his hoodie pockets. And he's alone. 

He saddles up next to me and offers a weak smile. "Hey." He's sounds quieter. There's definitely something off about him. 

Hmm. 

So I may've lost my own bet. The 'date' ended badly. I was nearly positive Simon would finally realise who he truly wanted. (Either that or Baz would get fed up and confess already.) 

"Come on," I say through a sigh. I've skipped the niceties, and drag him inside the nearly-empty restaurant by the elbow, and straight over to the window booth instead, guiding him into a stool. "All right. What happened?" 

Simon groans, burying his face in his hands. "They were together—Lina and Taara." He splays his hands out, as if welcoming the universe to provide an explanation. " _Together_ -together. Like … actual girlfriends." 

I blink at him, and he's back to groaning in his hands. "Go on." 

"They thought, they assumed, _we_ —Baz and me—were _boyfriends_." 

I hide a smile. "Ah." Oh, Simon … "Did you tell them the truth?" 

He removes his hands from his face and looks at me. "I panicked, Penny. I went along with it."

Oh boy. "And how'd that go?" 

Simon's eyes are so wide—he looks positively helpless. "I held hands with Baz." 

"He let you?" This is good. Sounds like progress to me. 

" _Yes_. He even … we even …" 

"What?" 

Simon blushes, red and rather patchy, and averts his eyes. "Moved our fingers around. Touched." 

Well that was certainly _something_. "Okay." 

"You're not … er, I don't know, shocked?" 

"Not really. The better question is: how'd it feel?" 

He cleared his throat. "Er, pretty … nice." 

I nod. Seems to me like these two are finally admitting they're crazy about each other. Only took nearly half their lives. "So where's Baz now?" 

"He's cross with me." 

"Why?" 

Simon exhaled, slow. "I don't know. He's mad I held his hand, I guess. Mad I didn't tell Lina and Taara the truth from the beginning. Mad because it's _me_. I don't know." 

Ridiculous. "Sounds like you just need to have a proper conversation." 

Simon looked at me like I'd suggested he break into Buckingham palace to sing opera in his underpants. "It's _Baz_. We don't do … 'proper conversation.'" 

I shrug. "Well maybe you should try. Think about what you _want_ , Simon. Then tell him."

"I ..." Simon starts, then trails off, looking confused.

I pat him on the shoulder, and make to stand up. "Chicken Souvlaki plate?"

"Yes, please."

**SIMON**

_What I want_ … I've been thinking about it all day. And I can only come up with one thing.

After dinner, I return to our room to find Baz sat at his desk, scribbling away on some paper. Just the sight of him gets my heart racing. 

"You're cross with me," I say, to the side of Baz's head. 

I'm standing at the foot of my bed, and realise I'm not making anything any less awkward by hovering there. So I sit down. 

"Fuck off, Snow." 

Right. See, Penny? This is how a typical attempt at real conversation goes. 

"So last night was … different." 

"Different," Baz echoes dryly, as he flips a page in his textbook, and makes another note on the paper. He doesn't even spare me a glance. 

He isn't making this easy. 

"You know, holding hands actually felt pretty nice, for me." 

Baz finally looks over, shooting me a glowering look. 

I definitely want the floor to swallow me up, but evidently I'm feeling daring anyway. 

I fiddle with the string on my joggers. "You know if you ever want to like, I don't know, go on a real date—you and me—I think I'd like that." 

Baz spins around in his chair, and fixes me with a proper glare. 

Okay, maybe I've read some things wrong, and my initial assessment was correct. He wasn't holding my hand because there was any chance he liked it, he was holding my hand because he was playing along. And it meant nothing, and I've completely missed the mark here. And now it'll always be weird between us. 

"Yeah? And the moment someone sees us you'll leap a metre away from me?" 

My face heats. "What are you …" I remember when the waiter came … but surely …

Baz shakes his head, and turns around to return to his coursework. 

He's upset I moved my hand away? 

And not about … the hand-holding itself? 

I swallow. "I didn't mean to … er, offend you. I guess I panicked in the moment, and it's not like I was sure of anything—wasn't sure if you … well, wanted it. But …" 

Baz sighs again, and turns back to me. "What are you rambling about, Snow?" 

He is … bloody impossible. "Forget it, I guess." I plop onto my back, and stare up at the ceiling.

"You're straight." Baz says it like it's a definitive fact. 

I shrug my shoulders against the bed. 

"Snow—" 

I shrug again. 

" _Aren't you_?" 

"Haven't had much time to think on it, have I?" 

"Think on …" Baz echoes slowly. "Your _sexuality_?" 

"Mmhmm." I turn my head to look at him properly, and he's looking at me either like I'm an idiot, or like I'm a liar. "Been a bit busy with the Humdrum and whatnot." 

Baz just blinks slowly at me. 

I offer a sympathetic smile. Because I know, I'm ridiculous. But I'm attracted to him. "I'm attracted to you." 

Baz's head springs back, like I've slapped him. 

"But if you're not interested, I get it. I just hope we can forget the last 24 hours, and everything can go back to the way it was." 

"Just yesterday the object of your affections was Lina." There was a hidden question there.

"Yeah. But that's different. Lina was uncomplicated for me." How can I best put this? "I didn't, well, allow myself to think about this stuff, when it comes to you. But yesterday, I was sort of forced to, wasn't I? And now it's all I can think about." 

Baz shook his head slowly. "You are …" 

"And I think I've always wanted it, you know?" 

"No I don't," Baz says quietly. "No, I bloody-well don't know." 

I watch him—he's scrunched his brow up in thought, and is looking off at the wall.

And I don't really know what else I can say.

"All right," Baz says.

"'All right' what?" 

"You can take me on a date." 

I spring up to a seated position, and Baz's mouth twists into a frown at me—but his heart doesn't seem in it. "Yeah?" I ask. And I'm smiling. 

Ignoring me, Baz stands up. "I need to hunt."

**BAZ**

Snow has taken me to a steakhouse, the high-end sort. And the first bite of thick, blue-rare steak is admittedly the best I've ever had.

He is watching me chew, with his mouth slightly parted. It's enough to make anyone self-conscious.

"Stop gaping at me." 

Snow clamps his mouth shut, and smiles. 

"What?" 

"This is nice." 

Is it? We've only just gotten our food, and barely said a word to one another. And I'm out of my element here, I don't know what we're playing at. He says he's attracted to me. He says he thinks he's always wanted this ... And I'm wondering if he's going to change his mind. 

"The waiter is coming back," Snow says, with his gaze over my left shoulder. 

"So?" 

Snow reaches for my left hand, where it sits beside my plate, and he just lays his hand over mine, smiling at me pointedly. 

Oh for Crowley's sake. I roll my eyes, and I take his hand in mine properly. 

It is sweet, though, that he made a point of that. 

I don't care either way, not really. But it is sweet nonetheless. 

"How is everything so far?" the waiter asks. He doesn't seem bothered at all by what we're doing. 

"Brilliant," Snow says, with a grin. 

"Excellent," the waiter replies, and walks off. 

"You haven't even tried yours," I say, eying his full plate. 

"I know." Snow just smiles at me. 

I laugh, despite myself. He is ridiculous. And I think I'm more in love with him now, than I was at fifteen.

With a little squeeze first, Snow pulls his hand away, and reaches for his cutlery. "Do you want to talk about North European house music?" he asks with a smile. 

"God, no." 

And that earns a laugh. "What's your favourite composer, like, to play on the violin?" 

I blink at him, because I'm surprised he's interested. "Why would you care about that?"

Snow shrugs, then smiles at me. "I want to know things about you."

 _Oh_. Is this what dating is like? Because Snow seems quite good at it.

**SIMON**

Tonight was perfect.

I just like … well, being around Baz. With him. Near him. Hearing him speak.

And I touched his hand again tonight. I wanted to make a point that I'd never be ashamed of him. Ashamed of myself, sure. But never of him. 

I think he's forgiven me now, he really seemed to relax after that. 

We climb the stairs back up to our dorm room. And it's so different from Friday night. My pulse quickens. I think I want to do something … something daring. 

Baz moves to open up our door, and I stop him with a hand to his wrist. 

He shoots me a baffled look, as his eyebrows furrow. 

"Tonight was nice. I had a great time," I say, still holding his wrist. 

He nods slowly. "Me too. It was nice." He stares at me a beat, then adds, "Ah. Thank you."

"Thank _you_ for agreeing to it." I smile, and I don't think I can stop. I would never have imagined this outcome, never would've thought Baz might feel the same as I do. But I welcome it—more than welcome it. I'm … really bloody happy, actually. 

We just look at each other, and I bite my lip to keep from smiling too big. Baz's eyes stray to my hand on his wrist, and I'm sure he wants to ask me why we're still standing here. 

"You know in movies," I start, "when the date's over and they walk up to the doorway to say goodbye?" 

Baz's mouth twitches, then he carefully says, "I am familiar." 

"And sometimes they'll kiss goodnight?" 

Baz just looks at me, and I can't interpret the emotion there. 

"Er, want to?" 

He nods, slowly. 

So I shuffle forward, into his space. I can feel his breath fluttering over my skin. And he's looking at me like he's a bit wary of what I'm going to do. 

I lean in, and press my mouth against his. 

He doesn't move—I can feel his teeth underneath his slack lips. 

And I think he's breathing a bit fast, the puffs have increased in speed against my cheek. 

I pull away, and that murderous, dark look is back in his eyes. "Er, sorry. Was that not—" 

Baz is pushing me up against the wall, and kissing my lips with wild urgency, as I work to catch up with him, taking hold of his face. 

"Simon—" he utters, against my lips. 

_Oh_. Oh, this is very good. "Baz," I answer, smiling against his mouth, which is _kissing me_. 

I tilt my head to change the angle, and he's pressing into me, clutching onto my lapel like it's a life preserver.

"Simon ..." 

And I've just decided I'm going to keep doing this forever, if I can help it.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading ! ❤️
> 
> (psst I'm not used to writing in first person present tense, so if you've noticed me slip into third person past, let me know)


End file.
